BAYAHAD You Are My Nightmare
by NaniWise
Summary: FIRST DRAFT. MEISTER AU. Book II. As truth is denied and lies are written in stone, time slips through the fingers like sad and it becomes increasingly clear to all involved parties that all is not what it first appears to be.
1. Chapter I Part II

Prologue

I was, am, and never will be a villain nor murderer by heart. It was true. If anyone said otherwise, they either misspoke or remained flat out wrong in their judgments and view on the world around them because it was as clear and real as reality itself, engrained in the programming, down into the very fiber of the cloth that made up all things, that I was not born as what Wonderland caused me to become.

It was not my doing that the passing of time turned me to this vile and crime ridden way, but rather it was simply the processes of interdimensional drifting that put me on this path.

You see, unlike the stars who's singular existence spreads consistently throughout the multiverse, humans carry on as new versions of themselves in every dimension.

In other words, there is a new version of everything person in every new dimension.

This is a balance. Nothing is out of place, nothing is set in motion. Nothing happens, neither fun nor mischief begins.

The issue that has stumped and repeatedly dumbfounded scholars and physicists alike for years, decades, centuries, millennia originates from when the stars abuse their power and allow an artifact, be it a material of any sort or a living creature bearing a soul, to pass over to another neighboring dimension.

The new dimension is full of differences from the first, but it is hardly affected by the new arrival.

The only change is the shift in singularity.

Two points on a line cannot exist in the exact same spot. There has to be a separation, a barrier of sorts, otherwise they become not two but one singular point on a line.

The same goes for interdimensional shifting, be it material or a living creature, the two points will merge, upon crossing the barrier between dimensions, becoming one.

Human beings are by no means an exception.

The two beings will merge if one crosses over.

Do not think it cruel. It is not cruel. Nothing is damaged, destroyed, or injured in the process, but simply they become one single existence.

The dominant personality and appearance, the one that remains in the end to carry the memories of the other as a burden, is determined by the stronger spirit, or more appropriately termed, the spirit with the strongest aura. It comes out on top and merges with the other.

This is exactly what happened in my case.

This is why I am truthful when I say that I am not Nea Kagami. Perhaps I was once but I killed him.

The dominant, the superior, the better me from another world, an alternative dimension, the Great Earl came out on top as the greater spirit and merged with me, absorbing me, eating me alive.

Perhaps I was Nea Campbell once but I am no more.

I am now the Great Earl. I always was and I always will be.

The Great Earl lifted his head from that narrow space between his knees just in time to see that wretched Mikk Tykki lower the little red candle to the potted incense.

As the blue flame met the dry twigs perfectly aligned inside the pot of auburn clay, clearly several decades old week with age despite the fact that the costly strawberry scented incense inside was replaced monthly, a weak yet distinct crack like the separation of refined crystals except more dull echoed through the vast halls of the royal tomb, the Raven's Tear.

The bandersnatch leaned down with such gentle grace, lighting the incense with such hands intend to cradle children rather than carry out assassinations, such a soft act for a second the man appeared an alien, a stranger in the Earl's large childlike eyes.

Those same brown eyes all too carefully assessed and analyzed all that was around him, sight delicately determining and picking up minutes details like a clock maker excelling at their craft after years of careful training and practice.

He trusted his eyes and his intuition. It was just about the only thing he found he could rely on in this wretched, cruel, awful, dastardly hellhole of a Wonderland.

From a distance he got a clear view of the children.

Royal children, princes and princesses, the offspring of what made this Wonderland so terrible to begin with; the dictator and underhanded tyrant king Lvellie.

Through the heavy scented light pink cloud of smoke the lit incense gave off, the six monarchs sat on their knees, kneeling at the graves of the previous reigning monarchs who's stories of courage and bravery still rang familiar in their ears and tickled their lips, memorized by heart. It was a monthly ritual and ceremony in which all the royal children would travel by foot to the Ravens Tear to prove their determination and ambition. They'd then go to the graves one by one and pray to their spirit or whatever remnants of the past kings and queens were left in those old and worn out memory cartridges for their approval, support, and blessing in the future like they were employing them as a servant.

It was called a pilgrimage.

Prince Howard , the crown prince of hearts, the oldest of them all sat quite tensely, back straight and shoulders pulled back till they would pop out of joint at the slightest push, head far too lowered till his golden hair kept long hid his face from fight, like he were about to be scolded by one of favorite professors. He wore his favorite suit; a shimmering black leather overcoat, a cream dress shirt of silk, black shorts of mountain flower embroidery to match the overcoat, knee high white socks his sisters surely picked out for him, black leather gloves, and black leather shoes with a silver buckle lined with the soft auburn fur of a fox; just to get on his knees in a dusty and filth caked tomb and pray to his deceased ancestors for their approval in the events to come. It made sense that he was desperate, being the crown prince of Wonderland, but the Earl had only been acquainted with Howard for a little while and he had already shown his true colors as one of the most self righteous insufferable assumptive people he had ever met. Every pilgrimage, he never complained and always feigned not only obedience, but enthusiasm.

Beside him was princess Tewaku , the third eldest, placing her hand over her heart either to show fidelity and humility, willingness to do as her ancestors asked, or to feel her heartbeat to make certain she was not about to suffer a heart attack. Tewaku had always been extremely logical and practical, even in her early years, straying far away from superstition and fairytales which was something the Earl had grown to admire about her even if it did make her equally as insufferable as her brother, but because of the deep seated fear of her family put in place by the abuse of their father, every time the pilgrimage came about, every time the months flew by and reached their end, Tewaku grew suddenly quite scared of passing winds, lowering herself to new lows in order to appear humble and small, dreading with her entire being the prospect of the ghosts programs of her deceased ancestors disproving of her being. It wasn't even just her behavior that changed, rather she also starved herself a week before the event, never ate on the journey up, and exhausted herself physically and mentally to the point of fainting. She wore her worst dress, going before her ancestors grave in the rags of commoners and limping in shoes she knew gave her blisters. She had nothing to gain from this behavior he witnessed in her time and time again, but rather fear had reprogrammed her to fall into these repetitive footsteps.

Beside Tewaku was Tokusa , the fourth oldest prince and possibly the cruellest and most underhanded fencer the Earl had ever had the chance or pleasure of encountering. It was probably because of this that the Earl enjoyed his company the most out of the whole family and why he agreed wholeheartedly to accompany them on this trip time and time again. In other more simplified, less subtle wording, like the Earl, he too was a troublemaker at any known opportunity, a nuisance in the eyes of every adult through and through. The fourteen year old monarch, a few years older than the Earl himself, wore a bright red velvet sleeping coat and rabbit fur slippers, black shorts much like his brother but no shirt of any sort. Tokusa wasn't even kneeling, standing before his ancestors ghosts, looking left and right, up and down, like he were searching for an attacker all the while with his finger jammed a few inches up his nose. It was honestly so terribly disrespectful and inappropriate that even the Earl cringed, but nonetheless he enjoyed every second of the impressive spectacle.

Beside him was the second oldest prince and twin brother of Tewaku, Madarao. As expected of Madarao, he was the tallest and the most hard headed. He was brash, hot blooded, and hardly thought out a thing he did in life which was quite undesirable and displeasing when worn on a young adult at his age, which was sixteen years if you were curious. Madarao was not a troublemaker per say, he quite loved his father a lot and always sought to please him at any known opportunity, selling his own siblings out and lowering himself so underhandedly the Earl was actually curious whether he had any shame in that thick head of his. His problem was not his completion lack of loyalty, which was as evident, as clear, and as expected as the sun in the day, but rather it was his inability to have tact or to act even mildly well. This caused the obvious glances and glares sent in the Earl's direction to be almost painful to watch, knowing the second oldest would only behave this way for one singular reason and one singular reason alone. His father set him up for a specialized task, which were usually the only things he was any good at. Judging by his behavior, the Earl could only guess that king Lvellie set young Madarao up to watch and observe the Earl. Said Earl could not be sure what it was he did to get on the vile man's watchlist but he would be sure to be careful from now on.

And last but not least, who could forget the two youngest, princess Kiredori and prince Goushi. Princess Kiredori being older and prince Goushi being the youngest of all the royal offspring. Kiredori being twelve and Goushi being eleven. They are mentioned together in this paragraph and not separated like their brothers and sisters for one simple reason. In the short time the Earl was here he soon found that there was no separating the two siblings. They weren't like the others who were far more impersonal than strangers even could be but collaborated with each other usually against others for personal gain like two villainous nations making an alliance with each other. Rather they had an innocent closed off childish love for each other, seemingly caring very little for the world around them when in each others presence and only desiring to see eachoither again when away from each other. Some might think they were joined at the hip or something worse. Goushi was larger and didn't speak a word of any language under any circumstances, though he seemed to understand orders just fine and the Earl had yet to hear anything of the boy being mute or deaf. For the most part, Kiredori spoke for him and even she rarely spoke a word. There was something so disgusting about the pair, something so unnecessary that repulsed the Earl to his very core. Perhaps it was the innocence. Perhaps it was how, should disaster occur, these two siblings would surely be the first to die.

The silver moonlight spilled through the stained glass skylights upon the ceiling, appearing in varying shades of varying colors and shown heavily through the incense cloud, revealing what it hid, the six children kneeling before their ancestors grave and the presence of Tykki , a dark Meister, the creature their ancestors left behind to hold them in place.

It was enough to reveal all that was necessary.

This was not a family.

Far from it.

A family, a true genuine family, loved beyond human capabilities to the point of weakness, gave to the point of falling apart, and received all that they were and all they ever would be to the point of childish mindless naïveté and needless self sabotage and yet still remained the most important and beautiful thing in a world riddle with deception of greed and frivolous emotions.

A family, the enigmatic creature previously described, was hardly a gathering of separate hearts and familiarity incarnate, but rather souls and beings united in spirit but only separated by a physical earthly body. A family begins to adopt each other's mannerisms, catch phrases, and emotions. The pain of one is the pain of all and the joy of one, even a single smile, is the most contagious disease around.

A family, the gathering of people connected by blood or another superior and more powerful force, protects one another, defends each other when the troubles of life should come to pass, and they always do come to pass. They will accept you despite your vivid differences, be they small or obvious, and will forgive you despite your mistakes.

Family would certainly never do the sort of things the young great Earl had the pleasure of witnessing in the past years.

Never before had he ever heard of such a pathetic and miserable band of thieves and liars who so mercilessly tore at each other's throats and threw each other to the wolves, creatures who undesired their blood and misfortune just for their own sick and twisted pleasure, like it was nothing.

They sold each other out to those they knew held nothing but the most vile of intentions simply because it was beneficial. These mere children made up lies about each other, framed each other for the crimes committed by their own hands to spin an intricate tale to their wretched father just so that they could shine that little bit more in comparison. They bullied each other in their respective time of weakness simply because it was just that, a moment of weakness.

It was not even as though they had a reason. There was nothing that could be gained from this struggle for power and control except maybe the peace of mind knowing that they averted damage to themselves from the waves they created. Few were in lines to the throne currently held by a healthy father who wouldn't dare surrender even a bit of his power. Surely it was in a dedicated servitude to some perverted form of love, a feeble attempt to catch the affections and adorations of a man who only grew to want things that stroked his ego, things that seemed powerful in his eyes.

In the end, it was hardly even because the children wanted to fight. They were yet again just pawns.

Pawns in the great king Lvellie's game.

Like that truly wretched man, all his children had replaced their weak human forms, their bodies, things able to be destroyed so easily, with cartridges. They downloaded their minds into a computer, the current forms they held bound to Wonderland's soil, unable to take a step outside the city walls even if they wanted to. Immortal yes, forever young, beautiful, and healthy, yes, but they were more than prisoners in the house that was never a home to any of them, forever enslaved by the one that gave them such a power.

Their cartridges, their true bodies were back at the castle placed upon a golden throne but just as their father commanded, their holographic bodies came here, to pray for approval from their ancestors, not out of respect but out of servitude and pure fear of the man only able to be called a father by the blood running through the veins they no longer had.

The people back in the land of France would have called them apparitions, ghosts of sorts, or demonic entities and perhaps they weren't wrong but the Earl much preferred to call them living holograms.

None will less, the young man could scarcely judge. He was in roughly the same situation himself, becoming a ghost, a trick of light at times, so much more that human and yet if any of these royal children were to breathe a single command, he must do it, without complaint or explanation. He did not have free will to choose for himself where his own path would lead and where his fate would become.

Again. This was not his fault just as it wasn't the children's fault for becoming mindless rats chasing an illusion in their father's game.

It was all because he became the fourteenth Jabberwock. It was all due to the art of double singularity.

The physics behind the concept of interdimensional shifting being prevented.

The physics of when a consistent existence throughout all and every dimension like a star and an inconsistent existence like a human are forced together into one border less existence of the process of designating the city's Jabberwock.

It was not possible for the two to merge, so rather they adopted each other's respective properties.

The star was given a physical body of earth which lay in the deepest chambers by the monarch cartridges while the vessel was given a body of photonic properties.

Present, alive, breathing the air like any other creature.

But never truly alive.

Just another tool in Lvellie's game.

Of course the doors had teeth.

Of course the accumulation of various irons and marbles merged into a carefully arranged slab intended to separate individual rooms and provide privacy or protection for the individual occupants would be lined with hundreds of diamond white dagger like fangs and would snap and snarl at him when ever he got close like rabid and feral Rottweilers, even going as far as to spray disgustingly sweet smelling saliva with every growth, and frankly the great Earl felt so stupid and ignorant in every known and unknown sense of the bloody word for even a single momentary second of idiotically and stupidly assuming so assuredly and so surely that something as utterly common and completely trivial as a castle door could be in any possible way, shape, or form, normal in this wretched, cruel, awful, dastardly hellhole of a Wonderland.

Of course.

he should have anticipated that a place deemed a land of Wonder was a scam, that anything bearing such a pretentious name was nothing short of a barbaric unified pack of lies and deceit.

Not to mention, not that they would mind being talked about behind their backs anyways, that the doors in Ravens tear, seemingly inanimate objects would retain some kind of sense of smell in addition to all this supposedly unmagical technology.

Of course the Earl had difficulty believing something so ridiculous.

None the less the fact stood the fact stood mocking him plainly that these enchanted doors would not only not open for those without royal blood but would also try to bite them cleanly in two like guard dogs while when the royal children appeared in front of its tapered stone face, it not only behaved, it allowed them to come and leave with little difficulty.

The boy could hardly imagine the purpose of it.

Why would it need to be guarded so fervently when all it contained were ancient dusty cartridges hidden away in old dusty tombs. There was nothing special, nothing valuable, nothing even made in this century worth stealing which made it need to be so heavily guarded.

Truthfully, he knew he was just butter because he wanted to ransack the place simply because he knew how a utterly furious everyone would be with him, but truthfully he didn't understand.

It was hardly fitting to be a place of sacred ground. The Earl was never one to believe such things anyways.

He felt it in his heart. He knew this place had something to hide.

And yet he closed his eyes and breathed in the smoke in the air, feeling the sweet chemicals on his taste buds.

He lowered his face into his knees just in time for the royal children to raise theirs.

He wondered if maybe they could just let him stay here surrounded by the dead. It was quiet here and they both quite enjoyed the peace of mind.

It was a desire he knew would never be granted.

The children would order he come back with them and he would comply likes faithful servant.

They would come back here next month and the month after that, each time falling deeper and deeper into the darkness of their father's mental prison. It was only a matter of time before they hit the ground and all spiralled into madness.


	2. Chapter II Part II

Chapter I

On days like these.

The cinnamon scented candles completely unprotected and assured to not burn the entire castle down should anything go even mildly lined the halls, mounting every piece of furniture in uneven numbers, leaning against the walls in clusters while leaving other vulnerable areas completely bare, replacing the electric lights on the chandelier by taking over the low and the high platforms, like the guards that once did the same, like the good honest men that failed at their sworn duty so long ago.

On nights like these.

Once those candles lining those empty halls like ruby beads on a necklace gathering dust like the memorial antiques once treasured by the now deceased royal family were alight with a flame, giving off life and warmth to any of the more nostalgic and sentimental folk that chose to remain.

But not on nights like these.

Certainly not on nights like these.

On these crescent moonlight bathed hours, those remaining occupants of the royal palace soon found their surrounding memories alight with a new, haunting, far more sinister fire.

The fires of rage.

The fires of misery.

The fires of regret.

The sound of a body hitting the ground.

"You must think I'm a fool, Earl."

"I have neither patience nor time for your games, Wisely. Either he is here or he is not. Which is it?".

"So cold." The dark Meister muttered, a look of excitement passing over his yellow eyes.

"The sooner we get these games over with," I snapped, trying to reason with him once upon this ice cold night, "The sooner we can all return to better things and you can return to your puzzles."

Resting his head of white hair against the mahogany banister, the youngest member of the royal guard, the white rabbit smirked and sighed effortlessly, like he held neither worry nor care in this wretched Wonderland.

"Silly Earl. So cunning and yet so stupid." He closed his eyes like he were to fall asleep, seated comfortable on the stairway, "Didn't you ever consider that it could be both?".

I felt the rush of irritation run through me. I stomped my steal heel against the ground and a sharp echo rang through the empty castle cavities.

"Kindly explain, please." I bit back.

It was then that Wisely's third eye snapped open to glare.

A single bloodshot eye, a bit larger than normal placed just a bit above his eyes, in the center of his forehead. Hardly a human appendage, hardly healthy in any way, but it was not a thing that could fall prey to infection and it was certainly not used for seeing.

Rather, Wisely used it too see what was inside. For telepathy, visions of a future, and reading a man's greatest desire.

A hideous thing, grotesque and sickly, oozing pus and bleeding other disgusting liquids I couldn't even identify in every moment of the day.

It made a sense why Wisely had become such a satirical and sadistic character in this game. If I was cursed to live with such an ugly thing maring my face, I would also find Myer hating everything.

Nonetheless, I envied his abilities.

"Why," the boy choked out in a back in the throat maniacal tone, so inhuman, so unlike him, "I'm talking about the nature of the drift, of course."

His eye squinted in that crescent moon sort of way, like he was smiling without using his mouth.

"What else….?!" The deep voice chuckled, tone riddled with insanity and malicious intent as it rolled up and up and into Wisely's skull, "What else could I possibly be talking about…..?!?"

A cold chill ran down my spine but I assumed it was just a draft of sorts.

Suddenly, the lids closed, Wisely's true eyes snapped open and smacked himself in the forehead so hard even I cringed, like he were trying to force it closed.

The pain soon hit him.

"Oow…." He moaned as he lurched forward, cradling his aching for head in both hands even though the both of us knew he was not injured by such a thing.

"Again," I complained, throwing my head back and running a halls over my scalp and through my hair, "Explain."

"Its the nature of the star….!" He cried, "His being now has a photonic nature…. We both feel it…. Ow….!"

That's when it hit me just as hard as how Wisely hit himself not a moment before.

The eye said he was here but not. Present, but not.

It suddenly made sense. Wisely was right. I had felt it. It was a drop in temperature, a tingling the air, like the very earth itself were speaking to me, warning me of the terrible, the dreadful, the awful things to come that only the Earl could enjoy watching unfold.

I knew why it unfolded this way. A new Jabberwock had been born in a new body.

More specifically, the Jabberwock had been born again inside my brother.

Mana was now the vessel for Wonderland's power source.

The transformation had been completed now Mana was an apparition.

That could only mean one thing.

I could not see, feel, or hear Mana but he was here, lost alone, afraid, and completely unsure of what to do.

The only thing that was left now was for me to call to him.

He knew me, he'd come if I called.

All I had to do was say the right words.

"...M-Mana!!" I screamed out, my own confusion echoing back into my face, like the very castle were laughing at me.

"Please don't yell!" Wisely cried out miserably like a dying email, "You're giving me a headache….!!!"

"Mana!!" I ignored him and screamed all the louder, searching around for any sign that the apparition heard my call, "I know higher here!!! Follow my voice!!!".

"Uuugh….. I feel a migraine coming on….!!"

That's when I knew I should throw away my pride even for a second.

"Its me, Mana!" I cringed at my own words, "It's me, Nea!!!".

I stopped, talking in a deep breath to call for him all the more.

But then, slowly but surely, a new sound filled my ears

Slowly but surely, I heard the familiar sound of a harp.

Joy filled me in that moment.

I found him.

Immediately, my feet took off from underneath me in a frantic sprint and I found myself running as fast as I could in the direction of the sweet almost honey like sound, into the shallow and shadowy caverns of the empty castle.

"Wait!" I heard Wisely shout after me, "Where the hell are you going?!!"

Again, I ignored him and did my very best to block him out as his booming voice collided with the quiet almost inaudible musician I chased after.

I shouted again, hardly able to hear myself over the sound of my own feet hitting the marble floors but I made no attempt to be quiet.

"Mana! Can you hear me?!!"

It never was.

I was deep in the parts of the castle that hadn't been lit in months. Rats and cobwebs infested the once glorious halls like a mold, like a fungus. It was quite unpleasant to look at.

My eyesight was higher than that of an average human so I could see truly the damage abandonment had done to the place.

For a moment, as my pace slowed, my chest heaving with heavy breath, I became concerned when the music began to grow fainter and fainter like the dying of a heartbeat.

I spun around quickly, searching frantically for a sign, anything.

For a moment, all went quiet and all I could hear was my heart own ragged breathe and blood pumping in my ears.

There was silence, but then I caught sight of something.

My eyes caught the faintest fragments of a ray of light emerging from just around the corner.

That wasn't right.

I slowed down. Tiptoeing in the direction of a light so familiar, so warm.

I put my back up against the corner and took a deep breath, preparing myself for what might might happen for I could see easily that Mana was just around that corner, but something else was there.

I steeled myself and peeked my head from around the cvorner.

That's when I saw it.

That's when I saw her.

I called her a she, addressed such a great being as a honourable star as a woman, because she had the appearance of a beautiful woman, possessing qualities like none I had ever seen before.

Her hair was golden, crisp and yet silky. I might have been curious enough to enquire as what kind of soaps and oils she used to make her hair this way if every strand of the golden locks cascading in rivers down her slender body clad in a white gown was not quite plainly weaved of individual strings of pure golden light, the sort visible at a sunset and and sunrise.

Her skin was white, even paler than fresh winter snow and a hundred times more pristine than porcelain.

The Jabberwock's eyes were like two sky blue crystals, pure and polished topaz, the sort that belonged to royalty.

In her delicate and gentle hands was a harp composed of light rays. She was playing a sweet melody for some small shivering creature at her feet.

I wondered what it was when her eyes suddenly met mine.

For a moment, he was fearful. I thought she might attack him but then she smiled at me. There was no malice in her presence and just as quickly as she appeared, she vanished but I could still feel her there.

None the less, I could still feel that I was not alone.

The small shivering form on the floor hadn't vanished with her.

This aura was just as familiar.

I approached it slow like it were a scared animal.

The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

"Mana…." I whispered all too softly, and the form let out a pathetic and muffled shriek in response to my words. That's how I knew I was right.

A new feeling filled a cavern inside me, overflowing and crown in little demons. It was sweet, soft like honey but exciting, like it were caffeinated, like it were dark chocolate.

"Mana, it's me…"

It was not a fondness. I was smart enough to tell the difference, but it was still a good feeling. I was surprised and soon I found myself smiling.

It was so delightful and yet I didn't understand why.

Just what had that brother of mine done, anyway?

I knelt down and reached out a single gloved to touch him, to assure him of my presence, knowing all too well how terrifying the transformation could be.

He shied away from my hand, whimpering, crawling away on his hands and knees.

"It's me, Mana…." I whispered, "You needn't be afraid of me…."

No response. It didn't even seem as though he heard my words. Nonetheless, I kept trying.

"Please."

The form paused.

Relief. He heard me.

But why should I be relieved. I felt nothing for this pathetic creature and anything I did feel were surely just left over from who I once was all too long ago, right? So why did such a feeling seem so real?

He lifted his head and crawled forward so that I could see him.

That's when I became confused.

I knew that when the jabberwock's new vessel was born, their appearance changed to that of who they truly were.

Mine hadn't changed much except for remaining thirteen for several years and having my eyes and hair turn black but Mana's had me confused.

Nothing had changed. Rather he looked exactly how he appeared the day I left him in our origin dimension. Same nightgown, same hair, same age, same everything, but the same scar on his forehead still remained.

Why?

Why was he so small?

Why hadn't even his mannerisms changed at all these past years?

Nonetheless, I reached down and pulled the shaking form into a gentle embrace.

"Why….. Why did you leave me….."

And so the games unfolded under a moonlight as sharp as a knife.


	3. Chapter III Part II

Chapter III

He saw a face. It was his own face but so unlike what he thought it to be.

Mana knew the face hovering above his own was his own face but alien in so many ways. The eyes were gone, scooped out leaving behind only an empty abyss, darkness, nothing.

It made Mana think that perhaps behind this face there was nothing but wind, just miserably failed attempts to be something it never was, delusions of grandeur, illusions of free will, when all that was behind that leathery and lifeless white skin was the epitome of all that made one feel alone and small.

It was just a mask. There was no skull, there was no muscle, there was no brain behind this mask so like his own face.

Each detail was carved through the years, shaping him into who he was today but was it all just a mask to hide the nothingness underneath it? Did he even have a face of his own underneath it all?

Who was he really, anyways?

Mana tried to look to the left, to the right, anywhere but those awful empty eye sockets but he couldn't.

It was like his entire being were glued in place, only able to see this mask and only the mask.

And then, without warning, his wretched mind came to sudden realization that the mask was moving closer.

He wanted to panic. He wanted to lose his control, to cry, to call for help, but he just couldn't. His entire body was relaxed almost like he were sleeping, completely vulnerable to the onslaught of sensations as his mind registered the smell of fresh blood with every inch the mask moved in closer.

And, at last, the mask, or whatever it truly was, spoke.

"Did you truly forget?"

And then all faded to black as Mana jolted awake gasping in fear, heart racing in his chest.

Reflexively, his body shot straight up, putting him in a sitting position.

Soon after, as the shock of nightmare wore off, as the young man stopped shaking, he found his vision cleared and he was blinded by the warm and comforting light of a nearby candle.

He looked around briefly.

It was a large empty room with only a bed and a candle inside. He didn't even seen a door anywhere.

"What is this place…?"

Said a quiet child like voice suddenly and he nearly jumped out of his skin, causing him to yelp in surprise and when that happened, he was met with quite a shock as he clamped his hand over his mouth.

What? What was that? Was that his own voice? Was that child's voice his own voice?

What the hell?

How the hell

When the hell?

He had only just awakened and the three layers of hell were already upon him.

He knew for a fact he did not sound like that before he went to sleep.

But, just what happened before he went to sleep?

The last thing he remembered was that boy named Wisely, the White rabbit, the royal guardsman, instructing him to act as if everything was fine and that he was here to replace the old Jabberwock, to convince that young lady Lenalee, that the games weren't happening, that everything was fine and to clear the playing field of any and all suspicion.

Of course he didn't know why he needed to that.

He never did.

A sharp pain rushed to his head as he forced himself to remember, his feeble attempts suddenly cut short.

He closed his eyes and clenched his forehead with his hand but in the brief second, he caught sight of the appendage.

He held it near his face to examine it.

"Wh-What?!?" He whimpered.

It was small. It was a child's hand.

That's when it dawned on Mana that he had become a child again.

It was also then that the now very young child let out a hideous shriek in distress.

Something must have gone terribly wrong.


End file.
